Aime Moi
by paper planes on fire
Summary: Itachi's life is a farce -relatives who he can not relate to, co-workers he dislikes and a heart that has shut itself away. What happens when the boy-forced-man meets a streetwalker who, albeit selling his body daily, has maintained his soul? ItaNaru
1. Ashioto

Rewritten madness ahoy, I guess.

Title: Aime Moi

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Trust me, I'll be dragged off to the asylum if I even_ think _about claiming Naruto- Kishimoto does.

Music: Kokia, Staind, Salon Betty

* * *

**Fully alive**  
More than most  
Ready to smile and love life  
Fully alive and she knows  
How to believe in futures

All my complaints shrink to nothing  
I'm ashamed of all my somethings  
She's glad for one day of comfort  
Only because she has suffered

~ by Flyleaf

* * *

**C**hapter 01: Ashioto/Footsteps

Itachi could almost believe that he was a child again.

A child sitting in a circus, watching the manifested myths, hearing the loving laughter, holding popcorn and dreams between his small fingertips-

_trying to grasp what was important, trying to hold everything close without crushing it in the process._

He could almost believe that he was a child again,

sitting in a circus, watching the clowns, watching _the_ one solitary clown, who was gazing at him with melancholy eyes while sporting a grin that was red and painful and disgustingly artificial.

He doubted, however, that any paid, any_ trained_ clown would be this obvious in their misery, this painful to look at.

The girl in front of him, the pseudo-clown, was painting a smile on her face, trying, stubbornly, to appear cheerful, trying to act polite even, when he could almost _taste _the desperation tainting her eyes, her entire being, the _very air _around her; when Itachi could do all this, without even so much as _trying._

He almost felt sorry, but, alas, it was not in his nature to do so.

The girl tucked a strand of her odd-coloured hair behind an ear, fished for something else to say, something else to spend, waste time with; something that he did not need and did not care to hear.

The man found himself opening his mouth, exhaling an almost-sigh. It was not his fault, his business, that the girl had appeared at his brother's birthday party, that she was brave, stubborn, inane enough to pursue the younger Uchiha, when he clearly did not care for her company. The black-haired man knew this kind of girl, was used to meeting them himself; the kind of girl who fought to be close, closer, closest to the_ object_ of her desire, the one who had spirit and strength but was blind and never noticed that all she accomplished was to create physical, but never emotional intimacy.

She belonged to the kind of women who came close to annoying him; the women he could only be composed around because he had better, more important things to do than to think about them, the ones he could be polite with and ignore because he did not allow himself to spend emotions on them.

The girl made another hasty survey of the room, her smile becoming even more strained and Itachi remembered how he had come to the questionable honour of sitting across from her on one the tables in his parent's house.

She had only sat down at his table because his brother had made himself unavailable, because of the likeness the two brothers shared.

He had only accepted her presence because she had been close to either crying loudly or having a fight with the other girl, because he really did not want to deal with a tantrum.

The looks he was receiving all around, though, made him reconsider this decision. He did not plan, in the slightest, to give his relatives the chance to try and set him up with another person, and had not the slightest desire to be told, at another gathering, that the girl would suit him perfectly.

Knowing his relatives the way he did, they would do everything in their power to ensure that he and the girl would meet again, as often as possible.

The only reasons for this would be this single meeting of theirs, the one where both of them wanted to be somewhere else, and the fact that those people thought he ought to marry.

Itachi lowered his gaze to his cup, stared into the miniature abyss of black and saw how the corner of his eyes tightened in annoyance.

And he knew, that this would not do, would not be good, that his departure was long overdo, because the emotions on his face were a dangerous, an abominable thing.

He watched the girl a moment longer, watched her eyes searching almost frantically for the face of her unhealthy infatuation, watched her searching for someone she had never actually seen, before he rouse, with the wish to leave this place once and for all- even when he knew, very well, that it would not happen, this freedom of his, not for as long as he'd work in his father's business, not as long as he fought to remain a reputation he did not care about-

Not as long as his stumbling, sheltered sibling would be there, in this rotten, pathetic house of theirs.

But for now, for this day, for the few days following this, Itachi could leave, even when it was only on a leash he himself chose to keep.

Ignoring the girl's startled mutterings and the eyes being fixated on him, Itachi left the house, the circus without sparing another glance at all those clowns, who, in all their stupidity and megalomania only managed to make him want to close his eyes and blend their existence out.

All those people who were wearing shrill masks, who had gouged their very eyes out to replace them with glass orbs, all those people whose bodies were filled with nothing but sawdust and nonsense, who were weak and coming undone at their seams, all those people who made his muscles and his stomach burn with a black flame.

Seeing those idiots in his mind's eye made him almost believe that he was propelled back in his childhood days, that he himself was a child again.

He _could_ have believed it, if it were not for the fact, that he had _never_ been to a circus-

* * *

Tan fingers twirled a pencil with practised ease, the movement fluid and confusingly captivating, and yet somewhat callous.

The body attached to those fingers sat on the kerb, propped against a lamp post, wild hair shrouding attractive, strong features, while the head was inclined and the eyes halfway closed. The boy managed, even in his old and slightly tattered clothing, to look like a flower sprouting out of the stone ground.

Not giving a damn about what was normal and proper and_ boring._

The sound of the cars, the rush that only humans could create drowned the sound of the pencil slapping, gently, erratically, against the boy's knee, and yet it seemed that some kind of inner fixation, another melody, wiped the sound of the cars out of the teen's mind. For the head of the red-head was moving slightly, and the lips were giving birth to words nobody beside himself could hear.

The boy would have looked innocent enough, if it were not for the female hooker walking up to him, gazing at him with a slightly frustrated smile and blue, sky-soft eyes.

Naruto did not see, too intent on hearing something nobody else could, but, for a moment, the secure lines of the girl's face washed out and revealed pain and worry bravely hidden by a smile, a caring heart that wanted to wrap itself around the boy; but all it took was another screeching car, the brightness of artificial lights glinting of the false red hair and the girl reclaimed her noncholant, strong expression.

She greeted her long-time friend with a sound kick.

"Wha-What? Ino- are you_ mad_? What are you kicking me for?"

"Well," she drawled, leaning against the street lamp. "I was just making sure that you were still _conscious_. What are you sitting on the ground for? You do know that you won't make any money like this, right?"

The boy found himself pulled up by the (supposedly weak, supposedly stupid, supposedly-) girl with ease; dusting himself off, Naruto stuck his tongue out at her.

"I was just trying to pass time, waiting for_ you_-! And I'm making money just fine, being the handsome guy that I am."

"I've got no idea how you pull that stunt off, though. If I wouldn't stand with you on the same corner for years now, I'd never pique you to be a rent boy at all," giving his outfit a condescending look she continued. "if anything you look like a talented musician."

Not knowing how he should react, insulted because, really, he loathed being called a_ rent boy_, or warm and happy, because Ino had just called him _talented_, he settled on a grin. Frowning would only give him wrinkles, and he could do without looking like _Ebisu_; Naruto looped his arm around her waist and watched Ino do the same.

The girl was one of the very few people he felt completely comfortable with, one of the few he had no problem to initiate physical contact with. The best was, however, that Ino never took this as granted and always waited for him to make the first step. The teen felt cold, but also strong; the knowledge that he was no longer alone turning his eyes the colour of the sea.

Sharing a look, she proclaimed, "I only said _talented_, because it's always the people with potential that end up on the street, starving. Don't let it get to your head, Naru-_pii_."

"Mou...Ino, can't you give me a few nice words, a bit of hope?"

"Why?" A short laugh, a thumb stroking his hip, a friend's gesture beneath the casual facade, "Do you need that, Naru-_pi_?"

"No, because I _won't _end like this, not in a gazillion years! Watch me- I'll make it big and then those people will have to stop treating me like _this", _Naruto looked down the street, gazed at the cars with their nervous drivers and tucked with his free hand at the hem of his shirt, changing gears in his mind. "I don't know who would _want_ to look like a _hooker_, anyway. I doubt that I'd want to know."

* * *

Itachi did not know it yet, but Karma, alongside with Fate, had decided to make his life a bit more interesting, a lot more chaotic.

This sudden interest in Itachi's life lead to a lot of less than Elysian happenings, such as finding himself in a maze made up of horribly parked cars that did not only block each other, but also succeeded in hiding pretty much the entire drive-way.

It took him one moment to realise that his own car was cushioned by three other vehicles and one ferocious, giant mutant of a box tree and estimate his chances of getting to his car close to nil.

The men ordered to park the visitor's cars were busy looking innocent; even when their lopsided smiles and off-key whistling made it all too obvious that they were, in fact, everything but.

The black haired man spared them each a glance, listened to the insistent chattering cloaking the house and decided that he had legs and could, therefore, walk.

Whoever had planned to keep him caged with all these fools would have to live with disappointment; stupidity had, after all, always been Itachi's pet peeve.

There were startled whispers and shouts that claimed his walking as unfitting, but Itachi continued on his way unperturbed. He knew where the hotel was, where he was supposed to stay and had his few belongings already sent there; everything else was not of importance.

He certainly would not mind not looking like a rich man's son; he did not want to know who would.

* * *

"The point is," continued Ino as though she had never stopped in the first place. "you don't _want _to be taken for an oddball, because, after all, only twisted weirdos go after the oddballs and you really do not want this to happen."

She fingered his bangs and pushed them behind his ear while Naruto presented her with an angry frown and wild blue eyes, not saying anything for a change.

"You know, maybe I should get myself a red wig as well, it looks nice on you, so it must look gorgeous on me, ne? We could pose as siblings, I bet that would earn us a lot of money-"

The boy gave her a chuckle which was punctuated by the rise of a light-coloured eyebrow.

"What? I thought weird was not your thing? I mean, honestly, Ino, what kind of people get off on _siblings_? This is_ freaky_...!"

Through the sound of the defiant, vibrant laughter Naruto could hear something else, something that was equally familiar but much more unpleasant. The sound of rough voices, of people hiding in the shadows, of hands only waiting to reach out and-

"The druggies are running wild again; seems that Gaara's absence has made them unnecessarily cocky."

"Unnecessarily? You're just saying this, because you do not profit from all this cocky-ness"

Intended bad grammar and the urge to create words aside, Naruto was dead on, just as Ino's fist on his head was-

"Idiot.." a grin, a subdued laugh tied with worries. "Take care of you, 'kay? Those scumbags are out for blood, don't make them hunt for yours."

"As if! What do you care about me anyway? Don't want to pay the rent alone? Or is it my hot body that you'll miss, eh, Ino? Is there something you haven't told Naru-bro?"

This time Naruto was not even close to saying the truth, but they both knew this and had better things to do than to spill their guts and their heart of hearts on the busy street. It was simply _wrong _to show your tears on the very street corner where you got into cars and sold your body for a hot shower.

The diamond glint in her eyes, the hard-candy smile of his clashed for a moment, before Ino, almost suddenly, turned her head to look at something- or, knowing her, _someone_- that happened to be out of Naruto's line of vision. Having a nasty feeling the boy followed her gaze and encountered a shadow.

A man, all in black, with black hair and black eyes and _blackblackblack_ clothing; someone who, without saying anything, had made it clear that he was not to be touched.

The boy blinked, cocked his head at the lone figure sweeping now past him and hoped against hope that Ino did not plan on doing what he thought she would-

However, there was a sudden move, a leap almost, and Naruto heard the tell-tale sign of two bodies connecting. He closed his eyes, finding himself amazed against his will at his friend's sheer courage. Shaking his head, Naruto cracked his eyes open, expecting to see another man being swallowed by the Ino but found something as of yet unknown.

Not only was the guy unaffected by her, but he seemed to completely disagree with the close proximity Ino had forced on him. Now Naruto knew that there were men who were less than favourable of streetwalkers, who thought themselves above the pleasure of the streets, but even those men usually took a moment to give his friend an once-over.

This one did not do anything of the like, he simply bestowed Ino with a look almost worthy of a capital "L" and pried her, with calm movements, off himself.

There was indignation and puzzlement rolling together in his stomach, hissing worriedly at the way his friend was treated- not roughly, not gentle either, just the freezing coldness of being irrelevant, of being ignored, of not being _seen- _and the boy pressed himself a little bit harder against the metal, trying to ignore his own ghosts and past pains.

Distantly, he heard the girl's voice, but the stranger did not open his mouth, everything he portrayed was done with his head, with the lines of his face, with curt nods and liquid shakes of No.

Curiosity piqued, Naruto took a step forward, his movement alerting the man.

Naruto found those dark eyes in the dark night and something inside the boy's chest _sizzled_ and cramped, making him take a single, shuddering, slightly audible, breath.

He was silent for the moment, the second it took the indignation to change into wonder and then, strangest of all, sadness. He tried, unconsciously, to fight this bitter sulfur wave of pain; the boy felt like screaming, like laughing, like anything as long as it would help him to forget the sting behind his own blue eyes.

He wanted to get closer, without knowing how close would be close enough.

The man, however, turned and walked away. You know, just like that.

It did not help Naruto at all that the older male was now missing something as well, the wallet resting in Ino's hands, the one that clearly did not belong to her, the one she had probably taken to get back at the other male only managed to make Naruto feel uncertain; he was not usually like this, and while he never sanctioned the Blonde's attempts at thievery, he had never found himself wanting to undo the damage poverty, hunger and blood-red humour had made her do.

Ino cut her eyes at him, examining with an acute, smoldering intelligence and all he could do was to give her a grin like glass on stone, before he reached for the wallet, grabbed it, and put a few steps, a few worries, between him and her. He was only slightly aware of what he was doing himself, but his friend did not appear startled at all. If anything there seemed to have resurfaced an unbalanced spark in her eyes, a smirk waiting to appear, hiding, barely contained, at the right corner of her mouth...

He ripped his eyes of her and turned, With his feet beating against the ground he murdered the distance between himself and the stranger and found himself next to the strangely gelid body.

He could not remember feeling this warm ever before.

"You know," he said with more cheer than was strictly sensible. "I believe there's something you're missing."

The man did not pay him any heed, continued onward silently; frowning Naruto hurried and came to a direct halt in front of the other, cutting his way off. The leather felt hot in his hands, uncomfortable.

He showed the older man the wallet, making his lips move into a grin, closing his eyes almost completely, feigning ignorance, and waited for the other to react.

The wallet was in easy reaching distance, could be retrieved without so much as the lift of one black-clad arm and yet, there was no movement to be spoken of.

They both seemed to be suspended in time, swimming through shadows and embraced by frigorific whispers. The stranger titled his head, and raised his right hand, waiting for him to give him his possession, waiting for the younger man to act, waiting for Naruto-

"Oh," the smaller male said. "_oh_" and the strange things traveling between his throat and his chest hardened again, making him take in a gulp of air.

He gave the man his wallet, felt as though he was made to do this by an invisible force and could only find himself again when the stranger acknowledged this not-quite-gift with a polite, reserved nod and a pair of all too familiar eyes.

_Eyes like wounds, like glass and fire and stone and-_

Naruto decided, and he would stay true to it, like he did to most things he said, that he would not let the other go like this. It was a good thing that the boy's determination could outshine the lamps in this dark street anytime.

"You know...Ino might have been a bit...drastic, and her antics did not appear to sit good with you at all, but you _do_ seem kind of misplaced. You sure that you don't want me to show you around?"

A smile, not the usual one, not the lie, shivered across his face and the wounds in Itachi's face found the wounds in Naruto's own. There was understanding, wonder and something like thunder.

And Itachi agreed to the other's offer, even when he knew where he was heading, even when he had never before asked for the way, even when it seemed profoundly out of character for him-

If asked, Itachi would have thought, that it was the smile beneath those blue bruises that had made him consent to this madness.

If asked, Itachi would think, later, that he never truly had an idea of where he was heading, not, at least, as long as Naruto was not part of his life.

* * *

It's not over yet-


	2. Tsuki no Meikyuu

Title: Aime Moi

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I once knew somebody who owned Naruto. This being of dubious mental stability had the boy tattooed across pretty much his entire back, but even so, great pains and lots of bitching included, he only owned this single Naruto and not the manga. I own neither a Naruto-tattoo nor the manga and am somewhat relieved by this.

Warning: Insanity; Itachi and Naruto finding themselves amused by stupid, laugh-inducing lines. No, not that lines. The other lines, of course [and yes, the warning here is totally waranted].

Synopsis: Itachi meet Chaos, Chaos, meet Itachi. ::nod::

After leaving his brother's birthday party Itachi gets "randomly embraced" by Ino, who, like Naruto, works as a prostitute. She steals his wallet, but Naruto, who watches this, decides to play white knight and gives it back to Itachi. In addition he offers to guide him to his hotel. Itachi, surprisingly, accepts this proposal of sorts- Chaos ensues.

Music: Staind, Sadness and Sorrow, Vienna Teng, Bush (etc.)

* * *

**I know**

Tell me about the place you're from  
Tell me about the things you've done  
Tell me what you really need  
Tell me what just makes you bleed

Cause sometimes I can't be myself, I can't  
Feel inside what people say  
So I just close my ears, my eyes and I feel like shutting my mouth  
But I saw you were in need of help  
That is when my heart just melts  
When I see sorrow in your eyes  
There's nowhere you can hide the lies

~by Elisa

* * *

**C**hapter 02: Tsuki no Meikyuu / Moon Labyrinth

Itachi was, as Naruto discovered this day, the proverbial strong and silent type.

It wasn't that he was surprised by this, in fact, living the way he did, he'd come to appreciate being able to discern different people, different personalities from each other easily. It was helpful, this ability, made things safer, and while it didn't eliminate all and every risk, it sure kept thing from progressing from risky to downright dangerous [or from there to suicidal].

Still, while Naruto had expected the other to be calm, he could not help being dumbfounded by the fact that Itachi did not speak _at all._

Sure, he had_ heard_ him, had pseudo-spoken, coerced and interacted with him before, but here,_ now_, in this strange and toppled world of candy cigarette smoke he could almost believe that he had only _imagined_ the others voice. Who knew, maybe Itachi had no tongue or something-

It would at least explain why the entire walk, minute after minute after _stepstepstep_ the man had remained stoically silent._  
_

He swallowed the growl prancing in his throat while his body's foot kicked a can away, and really, this action was sorely his body's doing and not that of himself. It had to be drawn, that shadowy line, between what he, himself did (laugh, live, struggle, tumble) and what his body ventured to do; because, for once, it was not him that _archedcummedscreamed_, it was not him who spread himself out, ready to be stared at. During his working hours he allowed his personality, his mind a break, because a single thought during those hours was more than enough to make him tense for the rests of the night, to make it even more uncomfortable, even more disturbing and-

and Naruto railed himself back from this from all the thoughts that were born in the sewers of hell and would only bring him pain.

He frowned, mumbled something just under his breath, something he himself most likely did not hear and decided that boredom had never been healthy where it concerned him; and -_oh dear_- he was bored, sososo _bored_, because he really could listen to himself talk for only so long without being...sick. Without feeling troubled. Being bored tended to plant all kinds of weird thoughts in his head, all kinds of rotten and dangerous and vermilion sins, the kind of things he had never trusted and never would, the kind of things that made him entertain the notion that he could imagine voices and that strangers were allowed to fuck up his head royally. [When it really wasn't so]

Boredom created the kind of thoughts, the kind of things that he could absolutely do without.

Shaking his head, Naruto glanced, somewhat irritated, at the other and cursed him for keeping his silence, cursed him for making him doubt himself. (_Wasn't there somewhere, somehow a law against suddenly falling this silent? Against suffocating people with all those non-sentences-?_)

How could he have forgotten- ignored, locked away, annihilated- the fact that the strong and silent type usually drove him up the _wall_? It seemed stupid now that he had endangered his sanity in such a way.

"You have not bitten your tongue off after I have spoken with you back then, right?"

Itachi looked at him, and, as if to aggravate him further, shook his head without adding anything. He didn't even say something about just how ridiculous the idea was.

And while Naruto wasn't paranoid by nature, wasn't even so much as suspicious (which was again somewhat risky and terribly irresponsible considering how he lived), there was, at times, distrust burning in the blue of his eyes; he knew, after all, that Itachi could be lying to him about not having bitten his tongue off (about a great million bone-coloured things, actually. But he'd rather not care about these, too); and this made him persistent:

"As far as answers go, this one sucked. I mean, how can I know that you're honest? Eh? I'd need, like, for you to stick out your tongue or actually go and say something..?"

Naruto _hmpfed_ at the silence that followed, and combed a hand through his hair, reminding himself just in time to be gentler than usual, more careful than he was with his real hair, lest the wig should get the notion that it was allowed to go on vacation. The inane thing simply did not understand yet that freedom wasn't for it.

"Geesh, I kind of really wish that the scenery'd be more interesting. Somebody should take some time and paint these snobbish houses bright orange. Would at least give me something to occupy myself with right now. We can't be all silent and happy that way."

"The inhabitants must certainly consider themselves relieved, I believe, that their houses have not yet seen such things happen."

"Why? Because off-arrogance white is the new trend? I just think it sucks," a pause, a grimace and "you know these moments where you realise things you'd rather _not_ know? I just discovered that I automatically associate a certain, annoying, freakish person with the word sucking,_ yikes_."

And for more reasons than this, Naruto found himself thinking about the pink haired student he met the other day, the pretty one. And as usual when he was thinking about her, he felt sad and didn't quite know why. There had been_ something_, something maybe with a capital 'S' and even today he couldn't grasp it, because it was forever far-away and translucent. Her shoulders had been tense, the fall of her hair had been soft, and she'd said, she'd said that, _something is wrong with your head, _idiot! And this wasn't what made him sad, it wasn't [but he should have listened, today showed just that]-

Itachi looked at him then, all palesnowlight skin and darkdark eyes that didn't actually say all that much, but had to murmur something at least, and Naruto frowned and looked closer and thought the expression was something like the cousin thrice removed from incredulous amusement. Blinking, he thought about what he himself had said, about what he'd let go... and artlessly choked on thin, slightly poisonous air when the realisation hit him.

"Don't look at me like_ that_-_!_ That sounded _all wrong_, and, and- I don't _want_ to listen to him, I don't want to hear those things, I keep telling that person _not_ to traumatise me, but he does _not_ listen, going on about all this crazy shit..! I tell him that he can keep his perverted stories to himself, but he doesn't care about that. _People_ simply do not believe me!"

"I am not inclined to think about the reasons for their distrust."

Naruto hunched his shoulders, sealed his hands inside his pockets and while he rolled his eyes his ill-humour faded with the other's words; the aggravation that had only a moment ago made him yell rolled elsewhere, ebbed, beautifully broken away.

"What is it with people and their aptitude to find their tongue in the most_ unfortunate_ moments-?"

And Naruto, after the words left his mouth, scrunched his eyes close and thought about Itachi's own words, their nature. The melancholy that clung to them seemed to be the same one that resided in the other's face(in those wounds posing as eyes posing as glass posing as dead). The teen thought about how everything in one's head was connected, was actually _one_, thought about the scars in Itachi's face and how they leaked their blood and grime into the man's throat, burning his thoughts into hardened sentences of sadness. He thought this and found concern standing on his tongue and saying easy things to bemuse and free.

"Ino would say that this serves me right, that I should not spend time with people, when I know that they are a few shirts short of their closet. I know that the freak is all _too_ interested in pissing me off just like I knew that you were going to be silent and distant and I still made that offer, it's stupid, that's what it is...wait, no,stupid is too harmless, that trait of mine is, if anything, pretty much _mental_."

"Insanity does not have to have corrupted you. It can simply be the boredom that overrules your other thoughts, that dominates, if I may add, your head in a rather obvious way and makes you do things you will deem to be annoying."

"Boredom by any other name. Still think that tt makes my point valid."

Itachi merely inclined his head slightly and the blond muttered, half in thoughts-

"You_ are _stressed, aren't you?"

"Admittedly, yes, but I seem to find the stress more amusing than the yoga."

There was a hasty movement, and Naruto's body, tan even in the darkness, bent over while an almost choked sound tumbled from his mouth. It took him a moment, almost two, but when those electric blue eyes turned to Itachi, when he saw the way they were curved in amusement, he understood that the sound had been a fragment of a laugh, a sound he had startled out of the boy without warning.

The tension he usually felt, the one that kept his eyes somewhat narrow and made them ache, gentled out; Itachi had never met a person that had reacted in such a way to a sentence full of nothing but crippled words.

Naruto grinned, open and good-natured, and the taller man ignored the doctrines that told him, stubbornly, that unexpected behaviour, even when it appeared harmless, was to be seen as a potential threat.

"And what was it that got you this stressed? I mean, how were your days so far-?", the boy asked and his tone did not belie the humour in his expression, it made Itachi want-(he would rather not know, and if that was not knew, he knew not what was.)

"My days-? I must admit, that I usually try to take it _one_ day at a time, but, it seems, that lately several have indeed attacked me at once."

The other blinked, gazed at him with a sudden earnest expression, and canted his head thoughtfully at him.

"This sounded almost like something a certain friend of mine would say."

And was not the term _friend _almost heavy, acid-hot the way the boy pronounced it? It sounded fragile, thin, the way metal is thin but durable and deceivingly strong. The way Naruto said _friend _sounded like somebody chanting his prayer or defending his beliefs. It was not normal, but it seemed natural and was all the more insane for it. Itachi took a slow, flat breath and:

"I am waiting for the next line...or have you no more to offer?"

"Well, than, would a fly without wings be called a walk?"

"If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?"

"If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from, morons?

"Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are people supposed to do, write to these people? Furthermore, why don't they put their pictures on the postage stamps so the mailmen could look for them while delivering the mail?"

"Uhh...I actually thought about that one."

Itachi traced the boy in front of him with his eyes, felt the truth almost of the statement and the ...almost befuddlement at it's strange nature. Something told him that the boy had thought about it and that not in merely in passing. It should seem ridiculous, but it only made Naruto appear mind-robbing honest. If the amount of words he sprouted were any indication than the teen had to be thinking about _a lot_ of things. Itachi was not quite certain if he ever had met a male who could speak as much and as fast as him.

Said boy turned himself for a short moment completely to him, only to mumble something and turn back, it seemed that he had guessed Itachi's thoughts

"Well, I would like _you_ to say something, but, really, you don't make this easy," he turned his head, fixed Itachi with those pool-blue eyes that were biting, violently, against the red of his hair, and continued, "not that I think that making you speak is impossible or anything, and even if it were, I would't care."

"You would not?"

"No, because impossible is just a word, it's an excuse. People say "_this is impossible_" and tuck their tail between their legs and make a run for it."

And Itachi encountered a face that was born out of not-understanding, but not soaked in hatred. Surprise, new and startling, grew in his chest and put a fist against his breastbone, pressing against his ribcage in wonder.

"How can they decide," the boy continued, full of something like anger, "that something is impossible without truly trying it? Without giving something their all? Without knowing if somebody else might be capable of doing what they think is impossible? I mean, a single person is just a part of a mass, a single person can only know so much, and that means that a single opinion does not have to be right, correct? It, that single opinion, is just a-" he waved with his hands, urgent, unsure but determined"- a fragment, a _piece_ of the whole thing. Not that I think that the majority has to be right, either...depending on the situation, both can be wrong and right, or...well, whatever."

"So you'd try to make me speak even if the chances were slim?"

A glance shot upward."Aren't the chances already slim? You only open your mouth every five minutes or so, but do you see me shut up? _Give_ up?" A grin from mostly silent lips and a laugh from the other. "_So_ right..! I keep on talking, thinking that it will get you going as well. And well, if it is difficult it's also a challenge; I happen to like those."

"The only thing you might get out of me could be a scream"

"What? Honestly?"

"No."

"Good, I wouldn't have a back up plan for that."

_"_-_that_?_"_

"Yeah, you know, you sissy-ing out on me. Would probably give me a heart-attack and that _does__n't_ sound appealing."

"You think that you would react this strongly?"

The teen shot him a quizzical look and Itachi elaborated, quietly, voice tinged with humour.

"It's simply that you look tougher than _that_."

"Most people wouldn't have a plan in such a situation-"

The teen looked at him at this, or rather, the boy turned his head away but kept his gaze on him, the blue of his eyes darkening into midnight ink on old paper, thick and thin at once, too strong to be touched by his hands, but to untamed to be allowed to wander on its own. He had the feeling that whatever it was that Naruto touched would be stainedcleaned for good.

"-not that I have one to begin with."

"Is the formulation of a plan too much of a challenge...?"

"You're a real charmer, eh?"

"I have heard this before, yes."

"That just shows that people talk a lot if the day is long. Well, I could talk much more, and would probably still not say this much bull."

The boy did not knew him, but...maybe he _saw_ him.

The fact that he was speaking about Itachi, crafting words and tales and throwing them, almost carelessly, almost violently, around just made it all the more obvious

The older male was not surprised, which, in itself was not a surprise either. People had the habit of being thoughtless, of speaking without holding a conversation. He had lost count how many people he had watched drowning each other in their poorly disguised monologues.

However, Itachi found, that, despite Naruto's human heart, his words hit and stuck.

They portrayed knowledge gained or stolen from experience, showed thoughts that were unbalanced but not easily tackled to the ground. Loking at this eyes, those sky scars Itachi saw something that tore into his veins, that made him stop and listen; Naruto's brand of wisdom was, in a way, something he himself could advocate, his words something he himself would say. How peculiar it was, he decided slowly, to find his own truth, his opinion, shattered in a thousand dreams of glass and rebuild not into the careful, sordid tale of his, but the stumbling, catching song of a boy.

"And yet", the blond admissioned after a short, stumbling pause, "you silence me, make me _quieter_, in a way." There was another sulfur tasting pause, with their muscles tensing and their sky changing, while the gentle hummingbird song of the dark engulfed them, "But that does not even annoy me, well- okay, it does annoy me, but I don't find it too bad; which is strange, because-" the shake of a stubborn, unique spun head, red hair drifting strangely purposeful through the air; a silence speaking about words that would not be uttered and a reason that was locked away. Naruto furrowed his brows, "at the same time, you make me say a lot of things I'd rather not say. _Weird_ things-"

Itachi felt half compelled to point out, that the blond was saying a lot of things, giving a lot of silver threaded thoughts away; he knew that he could chide the boy- after all, how much could the youth talk if he was currently quiet?- however, It seemed strangely impossible to use such ugly, morose words on the sky-eyed male.

And so, Naruto talked and Itachi listened.

Silence did not descend, but calm found itself around them at this evening.

-How strange it was, to experience such a peaceful day in this forgotten city-

* * *

Naruto leaned his head back and allowed the fake hair to brush across his neck, to tease it with a slightly rough almost familiar caress. He bared his throat to the night air, laughed and talked; was open but not weak and managed, with surprising ease, to draw thoughtful nocturne eyes to him.

They were not warm, those eyes, were not truly, not fully, not really kind and even then, in this abandoned patch of the world, those eyes were not focused sorely on him. Strayed, without moving away, to darker, apparently far more saddening things.

Naruto felt that he recognised these thousand of thoughts the other man was occupied with, could pretty much _hear_ them flapping their wings behind this twilight gaze, could, if he tried hard enough,_ feel_ them brushing against him, tattooing their intensity beneath his skin, making it crawl, without hurting, without ripping it. He knew them, but had no name for them. He'd had them too, before. He'd have them again, even.

What a startling surreal feeling it suddenly was, Naruto thought, to walk here with this man. He almost disliked it.

Trying to fight against the oddness gnawing at his bones, the teen drew three short breaths in (_ininin_ and _away_), and only one out, his breathing not audible, but almost excited; he decided, in his truly spontaneous, honest, break-a-neck-and-laugh way, that Itachi's eyes were burning with an arsenic light, a grave candle flame; they were like something light shrouded in the hazy red of artery blood.

And yet, they were, despite their burning quality, not persistent, were not even bothering Naruto truly; and he knew that this was strange, was odd, was insane...and while he knew this he could not bring himself to care.

Up until this moment Naruto had not even realised, had not listened to the voice that told him that there were moments were he was uncomfortable; trusting, like everyone else, that make-belief was as real as the ground beneath his feet, trusting, that pseudo-hope was all the strength he needed, while the King of Hearts screamed for his Queen to behead him.

It was too bad that even the locking-glass world had a fundamental law; that not-knowing did not mean, did never mean, not-existing. Naruto had to accept, with his heart beating a trifle beat too loud, a bit too fast, that he was human and somewhat weak and really hurt, and that part of him was still bleeding about the injustice of it all. And he had to accept this even when he had no place where he could stitch himself together, no place to be truly at home. While he was fighting to make it out of this place of rented bodies and candy-cotton truths, his life was ticking away.

He wasn't happy. He was kicking and laughing and yelling, but he wasn't _happy_ so long as he lived like this.

Coming across something- _call me worry, call me loathing, call me hate, call me child, call me _fearfearfear- in himself that he had thought to have dried away, Naruto broke their eye contact but refused to falter in his steps.

He was not happy, Naruto knew that, but he _would_ be. No matter what this stranger did to make him all kinds of uncomfortable. Fingering his belt loop, he stated, rather abruptly, that he should have let Ino go with Itachi and not himself. He just wanted to think about somthing else. And if not that, then someone else would help, too.

"And why would that be..?"

"She might have made you _happy_-"

Naruto did not look at the other, because he knew that there would be nothing to see; not a single muscle would shift to reveal the inner workings of the black haired man, and the eyes as well would be shielded. It made no sense to gaze at something that remained hidden, that was not supposed to be seen.

(_But why did he think that he could if he tried-?_)

"She might've gotten you to, y'know, _smile-_"

He linked his hands behind his head and looked at the sky, trying to imagine the stars that had to be there, even when they stayed invisible in this big city of lies and dead skin cast over even blacker hearts.

"-or, who knows, _talk_."

"Are you informing me that the girl would have been better suited for this _job_?"

"Ha-! As if!"

"The hard cases are for you, then?"

"Exactly and, of course, the _cases_ where the consumer looks more like a vic belong to me as well. Can't have people being scared of Nicho-"

Naruto furrowed his brows, blinked his eyes shut and laughed somewhat sheepishly.

"I wonder if Ino would have even brought you wherever it is that you want to be...without hauling you to the next hotel, that is."

"And you don't feel inclined to follow her possible footsteps?"

"Nope, with me you've got to make the deal prior to the act and only that one deal stands, there's no chance for an upgrade or whatever. And we, you know, you and me, agreed upon hause-haunting-tour and that and nothing else is what you get. I am just this honest."

The muscles in Itachis face shifted without giving anything away and he nodded. Naruto, again, felt annoyed, and his steps became irregeluar, long and bouncy, fed by his restless energy. He could have felt angry, _hurt_, that Itachi seemed to be so disinterested in him. Most days the blond wold have found his temper flaring, or his mood plummeting by the fact that the other was not interested in him, but somehow he realised, that Itachi did not mean to insult him. The nocturne eyes were distant, politely detached but did not show the coldness that the blond associated with disdain. There was not the white-noise ring of criticism in his voice, just the butter-yellow silence of truth. And this was why-

why Itachi's not-quite refusal left Naruto unintentionally calm.

It did not feel as though those words were forged to hurt, or created to destroy, and how could they? Itachi was not _there_ enough, emotionally at least, to want to hurt him. Naruto could not mind this half-there person, he did not mind this half-there eyes, he did not mind the mouth that did not answer.

The older man seemed closer, without being too close, than so many of those stick figures calling themselves human and Naruto, the half-child did not feel endangered, even when the confusion gurgled heatedly in his lungs.

Smiling, with lips that felt heavy and furrowed brows casting a few shadows over his eyes, he listened to the man's steps, listened closely for another unknown, and did only belatedly realise that they had reached their destination (that was a lie he didn't know about yet).

* * *

"That'll be 2000 yen, 'kay?"

Money was plucked from the once-upon-a-time stolen wallet and Itachi noted, without distaste, that Naruto allowed himself to not pretend, to look, in fact, interestedly at the colourful paper worth another meal, worth, maybe another few calm hours.

He gazed at the money that had to be more valuable to him than to most other people, because the teen had actual interest in sating his basic needs, an acute and burning interest, most likely. Itachi closed the wallet and tucked it away and the eyes which were trained on the money narrowed, the line of the blond's jaw appeared harder, the mouth less tempted to joke and smile.

"That's too much-"

"Hmm."

"Wouldn't have pecked you as the kind of person to-"

"I found it appropriate."

"Appropriate? Appropriate my ass! I'll tell you something: I take money after I've done something to _earn_ it. Not before. Not because. Not- "

Raising his eyes, voids that they were, that they were supposed to be in this moment between shaking houses and tiny, darkly hissing alleys, he mustered Naruto. Somehow the thought came to him that he'd rather have Naruto think about the things he said. "So you want to work for me, for the money I want to give you?" There were all kinds of openings the boy left, especially when he simply nodded and waited and breathed. Another moment, and either Naruto had though the words over, or something in his face had become visible, because-

"Wh-what? No, seriously, _what_? Were you...? No, no, no. Not like this, I did not mean _that_ at all! I wasn't talking about my _job_-! Not with you!_ Just_- wait, give me the money when you see me again, yeah? I might be able to do something for you then."

"The chances that we will meet again are slim at best."

"You know what? I don't care. I don't want to get money like this, it makes me- it's no good."

The silence that followed, on Itachi's part, drew a violent red, the colour of a fire burning strongly, to Naruto's cheeks. It was quite clear that he didn't much care for silences, poignant or not. Quite clear, in fact, even without the angry "_Idiot_" being thrown at him, he thought. He probably could consider himself lucky that too energetic a person to stand still whenever he wanted to make a point, whenever he was angry or happy or something else; he deemed it unlikely that they would have made it to the hotel if they had stopped whenever he had riled the other up.

"If you want to give me that money so desperately you'll just have to see me again, ne?"

"I wouldn't know how. This will most likely be the final goodbye."

"Bull_shit_! How can you know this for sure? I am lucky with these kind of things, so there's no way that we won't see each other again. You better believe it."

"The word lucky is in ordinary circumstances enough to make me hesitate, but, in your case it seems so ill-applied that I can not help but to be skeptical."

"My- Wha-! Don't go around and judge me this easily. Don't you think that_ this_ is all there is too me-"

And it was night and it was dark, but despite all this it was all too easy for him to decipher the righteous fury, the sheer indignation burning across Naruto's face like a fire. And it was night and it was dark, but it still troubled Itachi who always looked at people and their ways without being able to feel anything close to hatred (Fugako being the sole exception to this, pitiful man that he was) and looked at Naruto and almost, almost felt interested in these blueblue eyes of heavenhell.

"Goodbye-" He managed to say this with a clear head and a calm heart and only the beginnings, the _seeds_ of a desire that painted itself in innocent colours. Even when they touched the wound in his face and started, slowly, to make themselves at home there. He turned and walked and if he was a bit slower than usually, that, surely, it didn't add to much. Certainly didn't matter too much.

And then he heard it, not in the distance, but close; Naruto's voice and

"See you later!"

Certainly, Itachi felt like smiling.

* * *

:Thank you all for reading.


	3. Yasashii Yoake

Title: Aime Moi

Rating: M

Disclaimer: There's no money made in the process of writing this. Characters might be harmed, but hopefully not permanently. The address was picked at random and if there is anything standing there, let me say, that I don't own it either.

Synopsis: After almost getting his wallet stolen by Ino -and actually not caring- Itachi lets Naruto show him to his hotel. On the way Naruto speaks, Itachi not so much and general insanity assaults them, albeit gently. When Itachi tries to give Naruto more money than what they agreed on earlier, the boy refuses. There's a deal made. Naruto will get the money when he has done something for it. Oh, Itachi, if only you knew...

Music: Blackout, Muse

* * *

**Heaven knows if you promise not to go**  
I will pay you back in kind  
I don't want to be alone  
I'm alive, so alive

by Placebo~

* * *

**C**hapter 03: Yasashii Yoake/ Gentle Dawn

The beginning and the end of it was that he couldn't _not_ sleep.

Situations that robbed others their shut-eye and made them cranky, situations that made them nervous for weeks with trembling hands clenched tight under the table, touched him, certainly, but didn't hold him awake. It had something to do with the view out of Naruto's window, something about his world and how it wasn't only insane for a day or two but for as long as he cared to remember. Things could happen, and maybe they'd even shock him somewhat, break a tile in his worldviewfloor somehow, but when he was tired he slept.  
(It was easy that way. It wasn't.)

So, at this moment of time, Naruto did just that.

Sleep, sprawl across the bed in a tangle of limbs and fabric that looked painful but wasn't. He was one of those people who lie on their back, face not exactly, not really turned away, mouth open but not soft. Naruto didn't grin in his sleep, didn't grin often at all when he was in bed, in fact, just breathed a bit loudly and kicked a bit fiercly without holding still. Naruto dreamt and you could see it clearly, easily. Face and body changing, moving, showing so much that it simply couldn't be denied. That it was a fool's job even to attempt to do so.

Naruto-the-sleeper, he was. Naruto-the-dreamer, too.

Naruto-the-dreamer's dreams were usually nonsensical things; fast-paced, multi-coloured and just as off-balance as his waking life he usually didn't remember them, when awake, and whatever fragment stayed with him did nothing more than make him blush when he spoke about it, hand on the back of his neck, uneven fingernails scratching at his skin. All there was to the dreams was that there had never been much to begin with (and yet who dreamt of giant snakes and toads drinking sake? Discussing how and when to eat him?)

The dreaming, it didn't keep him awake.

Good nights and interesting people might, and Naruto would stay awake the way children stay awake when they have the chance. Stay awake simply to see, to enjoy and laugh a little bit longer; to live a few moments more with all their senses tingling wildly. When there were no people and no laughter, Naruto slept best, slept fast when he was bored. In turn, haste and exitement ever changed so very little for him. That was why even with meeting Itachi today, darkdarkeyes and mouth that didn't promise anything there was no change in his routine. There really couldn't be.

Somehow there was the expectation that the world would continue to be off-kilter tomorrow, the day after that, forever.  
He'd go to bed in a crazy world and would wake up in one and things would change but others wouldn't (and maybe this explained why he'd wanted to paint houses orange and talk to strangers while walking crookedly straight, without ever having learned how to lie).

Naruto had gone to sleep unconcerned and was dreaming mostly unconcerned things.

Right now, the only part of Itachi that touched him was his dream and within it, endless and not, immortal and dying, the weasel hushing_ rightleftright_ through his legs, leaving tiny black holes instead of paw prints behind. And the only thing he thought about was how he'd better not fall in these, because they promised to be deep and dark and... looked downright hungry. That was enough for him to think with the sunlight stumbling in through the blinds and casting thoughthin shadows on his walls. Or maybe it wasn't enough, really, because the alarm clock was halfway suffocated beneath his body, any and all sound long since chocked off.

Not being concerned, not thinking, it would take Naruto another half an hour to rise, Ebisu and the brat fighting a floor beneath him startling him awake and up. It would take him five minutes to get his bearings, four to brush his teeth, chuck a gulp off milk down and brush his teeth again. 20 minutes afterwards he'd jump over Ebisu, flipping him the bird and avoiding, miracously any and all accidents waiting to happen. All in all it would take him less than an hour to reach 8-12-15 Nicho. It was a stellar time. It was also too late

and wouldn't save him from crashing right into someone when he took the very, very last corner.

It was a rather typical day, after all.

* * *

Drabble-length...I don't even...maybe this will help? When Imperial Mint told me she had recc'ed this story (ftw and Thank You, here) I told myself to rewrite it (or face the consequences). While hammering the first two chapters into shape, this piece came into being. Sheesh.


End file.
